


Evenings

by katvara, ShindoW



Series: Digimon V! [6]
Category: Digimon - All Media Types, Digimon Adventure
Genre: F/M, Family Drama, Implied Childhood Sexual Abuse, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Incest, Implied/Referenced Suicide, M/M, Mentions of Cancer, One-Sided Relationship, Post-Canon, Pre-Epilogue
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-20
Updated: 2017-08-27
Packaged: 2018-12-17 22:38:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,243
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11861079
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/katvara/pseuds/katvara, https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShindoW/pseuds/ShindoW
Summary: Drabbles concerning my headcanon. Span the entirety of Yamato's life in no particular order.





	1. Closet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamato has a back up plan. One he hopes he never has to use.

Evenings

 

A/N: I originally started posting these drabbles on ff net but since then we've tweaked details and some chapters can be omitted completely. Consider these the definitive versions. I'll try to include if they tie into specific chapters of the headcanon. These are in no particular order.

 

**Chapter One: Closet**

 

A/N: This takes place during “Old College Try”, Chapter 3

 

*

 

“No one just _gets over_ who they are,” Yamato hissed. He was still fuming from that old bat across the way and now Sora, once again, reminded the blond of his mother. He heard his teeth grind as his newlywed wife continued:

“Fine!” She threw her hands in the air. “Just fine. I'll be in the living room unpacking _our_ things.”

Yamato scoffed. _What in the Hell does she mean by that?_

The door slammed and he thanked Takeru's God for small favors. Yamato looked over the boxes he hurried in. Meager belongings like CDs, some clothes, and books. The apartment was small and although he managed to bring a lot of his belongings, most he had to leave with his father.

There was one thing however...

Yamato took a box cutter and sliced down the brown packing tape. The flaps folded open and inside was another, smaller box. He took a quick glance to the door and then took the box towards the closet. He had to find a good place to hide it. There, at the top of the closet, was some kind of maintence crawl space, except not big enough for anyone to crawl into. Basically, it was some sort of useless hole in the wall. The prefect place Sora would never bother with and future children couldn't reach.

Yamato took a deep breath and peeled open the lid. A shine escaped the box under the dim light of the closet. Inside lay a magnum revolver and a case of bullets.

He shut the lid and shoved the box into the crawlspace. He closed the wooden hatch and hopefully, he could just forget about it.

He did the first time, after all.

 

 

 


	2. Graduation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamato has to tell Takeru the truth, even if it ruins his graduation.

Evenings

 

A/N: This takes place during Yamato's College Graduation.

 

**Chapter Two: Graduation**

 

*

 

2008

 

Yamato ran his thumbs over the textured case. He opened it and re-opened the top flap as if the paper encased inside would disappear. If anyone had told him that years ago he would be here, he would have given them a simple, “Fuck off.” Then, the comfort of a couch and a warm body would have appealed more, but now everything felt like old times, surrounded by friends and family.

There was just that one nagging thought... but for now he looked around at his friends, also graduates. The old group gathered around the entrance of the convention center giving their congratulations.

“Congratulations, Yamato,” Taichi greeted. He placed a hand on Yamato's shoulder as he joined them.

Yamato blushed a little and then composed himself with a smug smile. He looked at Taichi and Koushiro. They had become quite the couple, holding hands. “T-Thanks.”

“Yamato!”

Takeru waved to his brother from the other side of the room and trotted over with a huge grin Yamato hadn't seen since childhood. Takeru hugged his brother. Yamato returned the hug, quick to break the embrace in dread of what was coming.

“Ahhh! Yamato! I'm so PROUD of you!” One would think their mother made such a proclamation. Nope. Mimi Tachikawa shoved her way through a throng of graduates. She elbowed someone in the side as she stopped just short of Yamato. She jumped in place. “I KNEW you could do it!”

“T-Thanks,” he repeated. “It's no big deal. Honest, guys.”

“ _For you it is_ ,” Taichi snorted.

The blond waved him off and scanned the room. The younger kids hadn't arrived and Yamato wasn't sure Sora would make herself known. He had seen her cross the stage, but then again the two hadn't spoken since the break up in middle school. That only left Jou absent, bringing a frown to the blond's face.  _He's probably busy with all those premed courses..._

“Yamato.”

He turned to the hand on his arm. Sora. She teetered onto her heels and shoved out a small blue gift box with red ribbon. She looked away as if she may be blushing, but the light make up she wore hid any other hint of it. She blinked and then prostrated. “I-I know we said or did bad things. _Please_. Accept it.”

“You're my friend, Sora. I'm not going to turn you down over a misunderstanding.”

“Misunderstanding...?” she wondered. “Well. Aren't you going to open it?”

Yamato nodded. He went to untie the ribbon as he heard his father's voice. Hiroaki finally made his way to the outside of the convention center.

“Takenouchi, wasn't it?” Hiroaki asked and shook her hand. “I'm sure this is a big moment for you all.” Hiroaki turned to his eldest son. “I'm very proud of you.”

Yamato twisted his lips and tried to hide more embarrassment. “I-It's nothing. Everyone else here accomplished just as much as me.”

Sora nudged Yamato in the ribs with a giggle. “Like your father said, this is a big step for all of us...”

Yamato watched her as the words left her lips. Something about what she said didn't seem genuine. Another worry on his mind.

Mimi, Taichi, and Koushiro turned to them.

“We're all going to gather and get a bite to eat. Wanna come?” Mimi asked. She was still a vibrating spindle of energy.

Yamato thought about it. He made up his mind long ago about the one thing he came to this after party to do. He looked to his father; the two had discussed the situation heavily the night before over coffee and cigarettes. He couldn't let Hiroaki continue to have to hide everything. A decade had been long enough to be burdened with such a secret.

“I'll think about it,” the blond said finally.

“We should all go,” Sora offered.

“...you don't mind?” Koushiro wondered. He had his reservations. After all, Sora always put on that shroud of disapproving attitude when near them and after the incident with Yamato four years ago...

“Not at all,” she demanded.

“Izumi, I need to thank you,” Hiroaki said. He shook the young man's hand.

“No... thank you for everything you did for Taichi.”

“It was nothing. Speaking of... Yamato, where is the other young man that helped you?”

“Jou...” Yamato whispered. “He's probably just busy.”

“You'll love college, Yamato,” Taichi interjected, as if knowing the subject would make Yamato's rain cloud return. “I wasn't sure about it myself.”

Due to an issue with living arrangements, Taichi started college a year early. Uncommon in Japan, for sure, but not impossible, especially when Hiroaki had pulled the strings. Yamato was relieved to see Taichi doing so well after the bullying from high school. Even Koushiro, whose scar was still visible across his neck, smiled and talked adamantly about his ideas for a new OS.

“Easy for you to say,” the blond remarked. “You're in an athletic college. I'll be doing engineering.”

“Engineering?” Sora wondered.

“Space,” Yamato replied. He pointed up into the night. There weren't many stars visible in Odaiba, but some. He always liked that about the Digital World. They shared the same sky, even if it didn't always operate in the same manner.

“Being in all that nothingness with people you grow to hate sounds like a pain in the ass,” Taichi teased.

“I'll mostly be repairing satellites and shit,” Yamato explained. “The ISS is a lot different than you'd think. Aside the floating around and crappy food, it's a lot like home.”

“Well, I'll let you kids get on with your night. I have reports to write up, anyway,” Hiroaki replied. “I'll stay a few more minutes, speak with Natsuko. It was good to see you.”

Everyone told Mr. Ishida goodbye and he bowed quickly before going off to find his wife.

“I think you have the skills to accomplish it, Yamato,” Koushiro added, getting the group back to the topic at hand.

“If he can pass the psych exam,” Taichi teased. Yamato gave him a hard punch in the arm.

“I see you two haven't changed much!”

“Do they ever?”

Hikari and Takeru joined their little group. Outside Jou, it wasn't unlike their celebrations for Odaiba Day.

“H-Hikari. I wasn't doing anything,” Taichi chuckled.

“Uh-huh. No fist fights, you two,” she said with a smile. “Sora, congrats.”

“Niisan,” Takeru greeted. He reached in for a hug to both of them. Yamato wasn't sure which felt worse; being in contact with Sora after the events of that Christmas or the fear of lingering too long in his brother's embrace.

“T-Thank you,” Sora said. Yamato eyed her continued-forced smile. “You all didn't have to come out here for just us...”

“We wouldn't dream of not being here!” Mimi said, taking Sora's hands in hers. “We're all here for one another. The past is behind us.”

“I can't believe Yamato doesn't want to pursue music,” Sora said.

“He could be a valuable asset to the space program. Who knows what knowledge of the...” Koushiro trailed off. “Well, you know what I mean.”

“Yamato told _me_ he doesn't like all the attention,” Taichi grinned.

“Astronauts are famous, aren't they?”

“Actually, the occupation is diminishing due to budget constraints therefore the popularity has decreased somewhat.”

“What about you, Sora?” Koushiro inquired.

Sora dug one toe into the concrete. “W-well, I'm going to take over my mother's ikebana shop. She's getting older now and I do enjoy the family business...”

Yamato shook the drink in his hand and watched the ice break against the punch. That's what it was. Sora was going into the family business while her trashy ex went on to be an astronaut. Part of him felt guilty, as if he didn't deserve where his life was heading, but then again, there was bound to be something to fuck him over sooner or later. Like the truth. The truth he had put off for years now. He hesitated as he placed a hand on his brother's shoulder.

“Tak... Takeru,” Yamato said between clearing his throat. “Can I speak with you?”

“Mom wanted to speak with you, you know... She's so proud of you. I think you had us all scared for awhile.”

“Don't.”

“...don't _what_?” Takeru whined.

“You know what and before you ask 'why': Because.”

“Because...? You're still throwing that old line at me? I'm an adult now, Niisan. Whatever reason you have for _ignoring the woman that gave you life_ , I can handle it.”

“That's actually what I want to talk about, so that should make you happy.”

The two brothers walked away from the crowd. Yamato stopped in an alcove where they could talk privately. He saw Takeru take note of his hands shaking as the older blond pulled out a cigarette and lit it.

“Can you blame me for being upset? Even Mom and Dad won't tell me. They say only you can. Is that it, Yamato? Are you going to tell me?”

“Yes, now give me a minute. This is difficult, alright?” Yamato snapped between dragon breaths.

 

*

 

Jou checked his watch and sighed again. Damn his father's rules and having to sneak out. _I'm in pre-med for crying out loud._

Jou looked around the convention center. He didn't see the blond, but he did see Sora. He walked up to her. Usually she turned her nose up at him. Ever since their first adventure, he wasn't sure what he did to piss her off, but still... “Sora. Congrats.”

“Thanks, Jou.”

“I'm... a little late... I'd like to give Yamato my appreciation, too. Have you seen him?”

“Jou...!” Sora almost snapped at him, but she composed herself. “I haven't seen him. I think I saw his mother around, maybe.”

Jou knew she was lying, of course. The two had graduated on stage together, presumably. Perhaps Sora had her own problems to deal with. Jou didn't have long to return home, however, so he thanked her and moved on.

Jou found the divorced couple not far from everyone else. Hiroaki had his hand on his ex-wife's shoulder. She had one hand over her mouth. The two talked in hushed whispers. Jou could only imagine it was about one thing and he didn't want to interrupt. He waited a moment and thought to leave when Hiroaki called him over.

“This is one of the young men that helped Yamato,” Hiroaki said with a smile. “I promise everything will be fine Natsuko.”

“Don't get me wrong,” she continued as if Jou wasn't even there. Obviously he wouldn't know the truth, would he? “I want Takeru to know, too. He deserves to know.”

Jou cringed as her voice cracked. He only had that one brief interaction at the harbor with the woman and Jou had to admit, he was a bit biased in Yamato's account. Part of him hated her as much as Yamato hated her. Still, she was well as far as anyone knew and the regret in her broken voice was real.

“I'm sorry. It was his decision.”

“No. Don't worry about it. I'll continue to pray for his forgiveness and hope that Takeru understands.”

Jou raised an eyebrow. What exactly was going on? Why would she...? And then it clicked in his mind. Yamato was telling Takeru the reason for the divorce. Unfortunately, Jou knew their younger son a little better than the two somewhat neglectful parents and warning bells were going off left and right. “E-Excuse me, where are they, exactly?”

“Huh?” Hiroaki asked. “Oh, they went to talk somewhere...”

 

*

 

“W-What?” Takeru chuckled. He reached for the rosary in his pocket. Yamato was surely joking. That was just... “No. No.”

“...I should have told you sooner. I just didn't want you to... feel how I feel...” Yamato managed. He stamped out the cigarette from earlier and didn't stop until the remains were completely flat.

“You're lying.”

Yamato's face shot up, wide eyed and almost furious. “Sorry?”

“You're lying, Yamato. There's no way Mom would do something like that. I can't believe you would go this far.”

“What are you talking about?” the older brother blurted out in disbelief.

“I know you're mad about the divorce and that she betrayed Dad, but this is... so childish!” Takeru barked.

Yamato clenched his fists. “Why would I make **that** up?! Tell me!”

“You're troubled. You always have been.”

“How can you accuse me of lying?!” Yamato cried. He felt salt burn the corners of his eyes. _After everything I've done for you. After I spared you...! After I went through this pain... why?!_ Yamato grabbed his brother by the shirt. He could hear Jou's footsteps in the distance. “Tell me, brother. Come on. Tell me. Tell me why I would make this up!”

“Let go of me!” Takeru demanded.

Yamato shoved his brother back. Takeru instinctively took a swing in return. The two brawled empty blows until Jou stepped between them.

“Enough.”

“No, you tell him Jou!” Yamato screeched. “Tell him!”

“Liar. You're a filthy liar!” Takeru screamed. “You haven't changed at all have you?! You'll never change! You'll always be the same person you've always been!”

Yamato stumbled back. He took a breath, blinked. “What did you say?”

“Kido is right. Both of you, stop. Takeru--” Hiroaki started. Natsuko stood just behind her ex-husband.

“He's lying!” Takeru cried. “Mom? He's lying... isn't he?”

“Let's go home, Takeru,” Natsuko whispered. She looked to her eldest son, frozen in shock. She couldn't admit that Yamato was indeed telling the truth as she could never admit it to herself except to acknowledge her own guilt.

Jou lowered his other arm from blocking Takeru and eyed Yamato. He got a bad feeling from the blond's expression. One he had seen before. The part of Yamato that in all honesty, scared him.

“This is...” Yamato whispered. “This is all your fault!”

Jou barely caught Yamato in his arms as the blond lashed out towards his mother. Natsuko clung to her husband's tuxedo and cried into his shoulder blades in silence.

Takeru rushed over to her.

“Take your mother home. We'll talk about this later,” Hiroaki ordered.

“Gladly! Unless you grow up, brother, I'm done. I can't put up with trying to help someone who doesn't want to be helped anymore. You're a _heathen_. Come on, Mom. Before he makes up any more outrageous lies...”

 _How can you stand there?! Tell him what you did! You fucking coward--_ Yamato was nearly foaming at the mouth, but the scent as his face burrowed into Jou's arm calmed him. Jou cringed as Yamato dug his nails into the young man's skin.

“I thought you were going to talk to him, not kill him,” Hiroaki lectured. He sighed, meeting Jou's eyes for a moment, before starting for his van and home.

Yamato sobbed into Jou's shirt and struggled to stand. Jou held him up until the dead weight and the wail brought them both to their knees. By now, their friends had gathered, too.

“Yamato?” Taichi whispered. “What happened, Jou?”

“Nothing. I'll walk him home.”

Sora walked over carefully, eying Yamato like a stranger. Everyone had only seen him this upset once before and dreaded the consequences. She reached for him and he slapped her hand away.

“Just go!” the blond barked. He stood and wiped his eyes, quick to turn his red-faced gaze from them. “I... This is between my brother and me, alright? It doesn't concern any of you.”

 


	3. Chapter 3: Sunset

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The origins of Yamato's harmonica.

Evenings

 

A/N: The origin of Yamato's harmonica hasn't been proven in any official materials to my knowledge (unluck his bizarre birthdate range which has, so I did fix that), so I'm leaving this chapter in for now.

 

**Chapter Three: Sunset**

 

*

 

May, 1994

 

 

“So, the boys are how old now?” asked Michel Takaishi as he set down his luggage in the guest room. The man batted away stray locks of blonde hair as he turned to face his son-in-law.

“Let's see... Yamato's just turned five last month. Takeru is two.”

“I'm glad I could finally get an excuse through work to write an article here and come see them.”

“Mm,” Hiroaki agreed. “Getting away from work is impossible, so making it work with family is the only option. I don't have that luxury, unfortunetly. Let me know if you need anything.” Hiroaki excused himself and went into the next room to help with whatever chores needed to be done. He never liked being around Natsuko's father. Michael had never approved of him, despite Natsuko's insistence to convince her father otherwise.

When he returned to the living room, Hiroaki let out a sigh. His wife was lying on the couch with another migraine. How many had that made this week? This month? The entire thing had to be an act or she would have gone to the hospital by now.

“Head hurts again?” He asked, walking behind the couch and towards the kitchen. The boys trailed behind him and as Takeru stumbled, Yamato helped him with his balance.

Hiroaki stopped at where the carpet became tile, “You two stay in here. I don't want you getting hurt.”

Yamato nodded and held Takeru back gently as the toddler whined to follow his father.

“How is he?” Natsuko called.

“He's settling in,” her partner replied, taking a beer from the fridge. “Was it really necessary to let him stay here?”

“Where else would you have him stay, Hiro?” Natsuko whined. “It's just for a few days and he hasn't seen the kids since they were born... is that really fair?”

Hiroaki returned to the living room. “No, I guess it isn't. I don't mind him visiting, Nat, but staying with us? You know he hates me.”

“He doesn't hate you,” Natsuko pressed, rubbing her temples. “The pain just keeps getting worse.”

“I'm taking you to the doctor next week. This is ridiculous.”

“I hate hospitals. I hate doctors.”

“We're aware of that. I had to fight you to take the kids in for their appointments. Last time I took them myself.”

“Hiro...”

“What, Natsuko?” the father snapped. He didn't notice his children jump at the raise of his voice.

Yamato lured Takeru into the next room to play. The living room opened up with two huge swinging doors into a large sitting room. Beyond that was a balcony and the light was pouring in from the early morning sun. Takeru made a whining noise and Yamato had just about had it up to here with his little brother that day. “What?” he demanded. “What is it?”

“Oniichan.”

Yamato sighed, slumping to the floor as his brother proceeded to 'waller' him, which was something akin to mountain climbing. For a moment Yamato cursed and began to whine himself, “Takeru... get off me.”

“Play!”

“No.”

“Play!” Takeru demanded, throwing his fist at Yamato's shoulder. The older brother wriggled Takeru from him.

“You're hurting my bruise,” Yamato warned. He then pulled away from his sibling entirely and stared across the room as the sun danced on the floor.

“A boo-boo,” Takeru said curiously and poked Yamato. He seethed at the touch and glared at his sibling, who didn't know any better.

“Yeah, so don't touch me,” Yamato demanded and shrugged away again. Takeru flopped next to him and stared at the grumpy-grump in front of him with a big smile.

“Play!” Takeru demanded.

“No.”

Meanwhile, Natsuko had retired to her room and Hiroaki was enjoying his time off the best he could with an ill wife, an annoying father-in-law, and two young children making racket in the room over.

Hiroaki sat down and contemplated the inevitable, lingering cost of medical bills. Michel joined him in the living room, taking in an old recliner that had once been his own.

The heard the two children arguing, but it made them both smile. It wasn't like how Hiroaki and his wife had started arguing lately... “How is he doing?”

“Which?” Hiroaki suggested.

“Little Yamato. I heard he had quite the incident at school last week.”

“Oh, that...” Hiroaki laughed a little. “He was just being overprotective. He's a strange kid; treats Takeru like the biggest bother, but goes out of his way to make sure he's safe. I don't get it.”

“He's just trying to be a good older brother,” Michel explained as if he knew anything about being an older sibling. Hiroaki couldn't speak, either. “Still, I'm surprised the parents didn't sue you for what little you have.”

And there it was, Hiroaki thought. The insults start pouring in. He had learned to shrug them off, but this was more about Hiroaki's ability as a father than a man and that was what was making anger burn in his stomach. “The brat probably deserved it,” Hiroaki defended. “I'm proud of Yamato.”

“I doubt Natsuko approved of that,” Michel retorted.

“She _didn't_ , not that she has had much time to pay attention lately.”

“Oh? Those dizzy spells?”

“Head-aches, too. I'm taking her to the doctor next week. I can't raise two kids on my own. I need her.”

Michel snorted, “She's been doing it for the last three years, Hiro. Don't talk about my daughter as if she's a mere maid.”

The father cringed at his wife's nickname for him being squeezed between the lips of this jerk. “I'm worried about Natsuko, aren't you?”

“Of course I am. More than you. You should take her straight away before the symptoms disappear altogether.”

“Well, she's stubborn and needs to put in place,” Hiroaki breathed without thinking. He had never heard himself sound so sexist, but the work, the sleep deprevation, _other_ depravations, were getting to him. “What I mean is, she needs to do what's best for her and the rest of us. I can't make her.”

Michel didn't say anything more. Instead, he held a small harmonica in his hand. “You play?” he questioned.

Hiroaki nodded. “Not harmonica. You know I play bass, though. I know a little piano, too.”

“This is a fine instrument,” Michel said, waving the metal block in the air a little. Then he pulled another item from his bag. A vintage set of wooden blocks with the English alphabet on them. “This is for Takeru.”

“They're nice gifts. But I wouldn't trust hierlooms to children.”

“Natsuko's mother would want the kids to have them,” Michel grinned. He took the items with him to the next room and Hiroaki watched carefully as the grandfather knealt down, separating the two bickering children. They immediately stopped at the face of this strange man. Niether had any memory of the first time they met, but they knew that this broad shouldered, blue-eyed foreigner was important to their mother and he was being nice. He handed them the gifts. Yamato held the metal object awkwardly in his tiny hands. Takeru immediately spilled the blocks all over the playmat and began building towers and knocking them down. One hit Yamato in the leg, but he held back a cringe of pain.

“Yamato, this is a harmonica. I've had it for awhile now, but I would like you to have it.”

“...why?” the tiny blonde wondered, staring at his reflection in the metal.

“Because, it will bring you good luck and who knows, maybe you'll be famous one day.”

“Sounds dumb,” Yamato admitted, setting the instrument aside, but Michel reached for it. Yamato pulled away quickly with deadpan fear, but his grandfather grabbed the instrument anyway.

“It's okay,” Michel whispered, puzzled by the kid's reaction. He took it as to them still being strangers and held the instrument to his lips. He arched it and showed Yamato how to hold his hands. “See? You try.”

“No, I don't want to.”

“Oh, well...” Michel chuckled, putting the gift back in Yamato's hand, “When you're ready then. At least Takeru is enjoying his gift from Grandpa Michel.”

Yamato glared at his younger brother who was making loud noises and oo's as he built up the blocks and sent them crashing down again. Yamato then folded his arms. Takeru... always loved more than him. He wasn't punished... He wasn't 'special'... Yamato kicked the blocks prematurely and Takeru's eyes welled up and he began to cry. Immediately Yamato felt horrible and apologized, desperately trying to restack them.

“It's alright, Takeru,” Michel said, patting the boy on the head. “See? Big brother Yamato is here to fix everything. Even big brother's make mistakes.”

Yamato's blue eyes found their match in his grandfather's a moment before the tall man stood again, like the skyscrapers Takeru had only imagined, and then went back to the living room. Yamato shifted awkwardly on the floor and looked at Takeru, who was leaning far over to find a block.

“Let me... Let me get it,” Yamato sighed and then went over and grabbed the wooden toy before handing it back. “Here you go.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Natsuko attends Yamato's last concert with the WOLVES.

Evenings

 

A/N: Lyrics belong to Cold.

 

**Chapter Four: Approval**

 

*

 

2004

 

 

_I can taste your innocence  
Young and sweet like mother made you _

 

Natsuko had never liked the “dives” Yamato's band performed at. She knew at one point they had performed in more respectable venues, but this was their final concert... only the most hardcore of their fans seemed to show up. Natsuko wasn't sure what to think of them, either. Most were what you would expect: young adults smoking or drinking, ripped jeans and beanies. A small few seemed like they only sat through the WOLVES' to await the next band. Natsuko also wasn't sure how she felt about all these people taking her son's words as some sort of gospel... especially when they were anything but.

_Everything frozen in ice  
These motherfuckers just got wicked _

 

Then, Takeru went to these things fairly regularly at one point in time. He insisted to his mother that things didn't used to be this way and it was... how did Yamato put it? “How the band evolved.” If Takeru hadn't been fighting with his brother so often anyway, Natsuko was sure he wouldn't have stayed around for this, either.

Natsuko clutched her purse next to her. She already spent the entire first set picking at a spare thread coming loose on her coat and now with Yamato's soul pouring out to her, she felt that overwhelming guilt she could never let go, yet never completely grasp. She wished she remembered more of the terrible things she did to him or that happened to her, but all of it was a blur, even moreso after the cancer had been removed. She coughed.

 

 _Well I can't explain this little man_  
Taken over   
Can't explain the way that I feel

 

Takeru and Natsuko waited backstage for Yamato. Natsuko could see her youngest son trying not to fume. He picked up the newly aquired Bible from his pocket and began to read from where he had left off. Natsuko made a weak smile. She knew something had happened regarding their little monster friends, but not exactly what. For an entire week Takeru seemed in a daze until finding her Bible and now he wouldn't let it out of his sight. She was happy for him... after all, he could have ended up like Yamato who seemed to be spiralling.

Natsuko watched as her eldest approached. His hair was long now and the sweat of being under the stage lights made strands stick to his cheeks and forehead. He wasn't eating, that was sure. She usually blamed Hiroaki—he should feed the boy more than junk food, but this was something else entirely. Yamato was pale, undereyes a deep spectrum of purple. She pretended not to notice the beer bottle he set down outside the bar's door. He lit a cigarette as he said bye to what Natsuko assumed had been some friends. She thought maybe she recognized the maroon haired girl, but she was a bit older than she had expected.

When he finally met his mother and Takeru, Natsuko only recognized those blue eyes, a beautiful reflection of her own. The rest of Yamato may as well be the body of an alien to her. She held back every urge to reach out to him as even now, when he greeted them, there was an aura of anger she couldn't shake.

“That was nice,” Takeru mumbled. He didn't look up from the Book.

“Don't lie, little brother. Lying is 'bad',” Yamato mocked.

“Don't be like that. You're my little boy and you don't act that way,” Natsuko lectured Takeru. She let the entire thing slip out of habit.

“Your 'little boy'. Thought that was a title you only reserved for me,” Yamato smirked. He let out a breath of disregarding smoke.

“That goes for you, too,” Natsuko stated. She pressed her lips together, making a thin, light pink line. Yamato looked away from her, disgusted. “Since when do you sing about things like that? That's not how I raised you.”

“You didn't fucking raise me,” Yamato growled. “I didn't ask for your damn validation, either. No one asked you to be here. No one asked for your motherfucking opinion.”

“Yamato!” Natsuko barked. “Stop. I'm just saying, all this is a bit morbid, don't you think? I know you two are going through something tough right now.”

“Right now?!” Yamato barked. He ran both hands over his cheeks and tried not to laugh. He couldn't hold back the outburst and now his rage was like a volcano erupting at the slightest provocation. “Don't get me wrong, 'Mom', I'm upset. I lost my best friend in the entire fucking universe... but don't begin to say that's the only thing wrong with me. Like I don't have your shadow always looming over me.”

“That's your decision, isn't it?” Takeru said. He finally spoke up. He couldn't stand there and listen to them bicker. Yamato was no better than their father. “We need to learn to move on and deal with problems.”

“Easy for you to say,” Yamato hissed. He took out another cigarette and lit it. “Do me a favor. Don't come back. This is my last show and I'd like it to be a pleasant one.”

“Yamato, wait,” Natsuko begged.

Takeru rushed after his brother, halfway between their mother and the door. “Niisan, come on,” Takeru started. He grabbed his brother by the coat and yanked him back. “Was all that necessary? You could have played anything else and yet you wanted her to know how you feel. Well, she knows and she's always known and she hates it. You don't have to keep reminding her.”

“Go back to her. It's what your good at,” Yamato grumbled and disappeared into the cavern of a bar. Cheers ensued inside as they prepared the second set.

Takeru turned back to his mother and shook his head. He then hoped in the back of his mind that everything would be fine. Natsuko coughed again.

 


	5. Bathtime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Yamato vents his frustrations to his daughter, hoping she has a better life than his own.

Evenings

 

A/N: I had this scene planned for a long time. Takes place before 'No Children'.

 

**Chapter Five: Bathtime**

 

*

 

2014

 

The little bundle cooed in his hands. Her curious fingers reached out to explore the mysterious liquid substance now enveloping her small form in the kitchen sink.

"Water's fun isn't it? Your Dad used to be a good swimmer back in the day... maybe you can be too? _Who wants to outrun a Seadramon? You?_ "

Blue eyes sparkled into ones that matched his own as he laughed. The small apartment echoed the foreign sound. It had been so long since he laughed that he got chills. "Well, maybe I wouldn't be that good at swimming anymore..." the blonde said with a raspy cough to follow. An ashtray lay hidden under the sink.

"I would still save you, even if you turn out to be a big a dick as your Uncle Takeru, though," Yamato smiled. "Also, you should see how water acts in space! You can hold a raindrop in your fingers and... you don't care about any of this do you?” The baby let out an annoyed gurgle and Yamato frowned, his eyes narrowing playfully. "Fine, guess you don't want to listen to my lost dreams, either. You're stubborn you know. Like your mother."

The baby eyed him curiously and the father contemplated how much she truly understood of what he said to her. She wasn't anywhere near the age she would be forming memories, but in the back of his mind he already felt like he was running out of time.

Yamato hated silence and he struggled to find anything to say to his daughter. Maybe just hearing his voice was enough and the context didn't matter. He even started to hum to fill the void. He reached for a cloth with the hand that wasn't balancing his baby girl and dipped it into the water, then out again.

"You're a messy eater, like your Gran-Dad, so I guess you do take more than your looks from my side of the family, huh.”

The baby giggled and splashed in response. "...sorry you have to be my personal shrink, Hana-chan."

Yamato held his smile as he finished bathing her, wondering what she was thinking about as the world around her suddenly began to grow clearer and wider. She had such an infinite future, compared to his own, dead one.

If he held onto that, everything would be worth it.

The smile then faded at the sound of the lock moving at the nearby door. He saw a flash of red hair and a coat as his wife hopped inside from the cold.

"Sora, you're back from the shop?"

"They can handle things," she replied. "... why do you sound so surprised?"

"I'm... not?" the husband started. "You're early, is all."

At this, Sora turned to him. Her beautiful apple colored eyes scanned him and narrowed, her lashes hiding any gleam of humanity beneath them. She moved from Yamato to the rest of the kitchen, as if looking for something. She noted the toddler's dirty clothes in the basket by the washroom and the high chair covered in strained... vegetables of some sort. Finally, she returned to her husband and the baby splashing happily in the sink.

"What's this?" she demanded.

"She's a messy eater. She needed a bath."

"She'll just get dirty again,” Sora sighed. She pressed herself between Yamato and the sink, taking Hanako out.

"But you do it all the ti-"

"Hanako, sweetie..." Sora equally cooed, bringing the child to her shoulder, covering her bare bottom with the crook of her arm. She turned away, making Yamato strain his neck to see either of their faces. "It's okay. I'm here."

Yamato didn't get a chance to speak, or rather, he couldn't. Sora had acted strange since the birth... Accusing him of fuck knows what. He didn't want to say anything wrong and avoided pressing her, because when he did, the two's tempers flared and he would rather lose an argument than fight in front of their newborn. Sora took Hanako to her room down the hall, going on about what the child might want to wear.

Yamato pulled the plug in the sink. The scent of roses still lingered in the silent air. With heavy, sleepless eyes, he watched the water drain. The twirling peaked into a black hole. Long after the gurgling sound of the pipes faded, he continued to stare into that abyss.

 

 

 


End file.
